Chapter 16 Willow
I smooth my palms down the sides of my dress, shifting nervously in front of the full-length mirror. It’s a deep green knee-length cocktail dress. Ellie picked it out because she liked how it matches my ring. She’s in a short yellow one, sleeveless and frilly at the shoulders.
I inhale a deep breath. “So, should we head down to say hello to everybody?” I ask, hearing the shakiness in my voice. Still hazy on how I went from being tossed into a truck and off to the airport, to hosting a housewarming slash impromptu engagement party for sixty people, in less than a week.
I’d clearly underestimated just how big the Thorne name is in this town. Because the response to the announcement came strong—and hard. Folks from town screaming for more information on the wedding, an engagement party, a reason to celebrate with us.
Hence tonight’s housewarming. One Dallas and I felt cornered into hosting. It’s supposed to be an open invitation to celebrate his new home—well, our new home—and upcoming nuptials. Simultaneously dodging the need for a bogus engagement party.
“Yes, I’m ready,” Ellie squeals. She does love a good crowd. I only like a big crowd when it means more tips.
Another car crunches over the gravel outside, the tires grinding slowly to a stop. Ellie peeks out my bedroom window. It faces the ranch, unlike Dallas’s, which faces the river and mountains. “It’s Uncle Silas and his friends,” Ellie announces giddily.
I narrow my eyes, having been given the family tree earlier this week. “The Silas Thorne, huh?” I mutter. I’m not as big a hockey fan as Rose so I don’t expect to be star-struck or anything. But who can ignore members of the Denver Kings when they’re right there in your living room?
Ellie smiles and nods. “He’s funny. And he always brings me Swedish Fish.” She skips to the door. “Let’s go down.”
I bite my lip. “You go ahead. I’ll be down in a minute.”
Once she’s gone, I close my eyes and exhale, trying to tune out the light music and chatter floating up.
The irony isn’t lost on me. Downstairs, dozens of strangers are waiting to toast to a future I have no intention of living. A future I’ve cut out of my five- or even ten-year plan.
Now I need to plaster on a smile and let everyone believe that it’s all I want. That marriage, trust . . . forever . . . are things I actually believe fit with who I am.
They don’t.
They’re things I’ve shaped myself to live without.
And tonight is just about pinning on another smile for just another crowd.
Except I can’t hide behind a piano and keep my head down.
My heart rattles around inside my ribs as the house fills with even more unfamiliar voices. Louder, the house growing more excited.
I haven’t heard Dallas’s voice in a while and I’m wondering if he plans to look out for me tonight. Likely not. He’s about as thrilled as I am about all this and will no doubt disappear every chance he can.
There’s a knock on my door and my stomach flips, hoping I’m wrong, that Dallas is checking on me. This morning over coffee, he grumbled something about sneaking off upstairs to make it look like we can’t keep our hands off each other.
I’m about to pull it open to ask if it’s that bad already, but Rose sticks her head in. “Are you decent?”
I frown. “In what context?”
Her eyes scan the room before pushing the door wide open. A petite blonde female is with her, bouncing inside uninvited, like Goldilocks. “Hi there. Oh, you’re a pretty one. I’m Charlie.”
I perk a brow at Rose and she answers my unspoken question. “Noah’s wife.”
I look down at the ray of sunshine with a chuckle. “No, you’re not.”
Her grin is wide. “Almost a whole year now. Noah sent me up here for quality control.”
“Quality what?”
She pushes me aside and opens up my closet, looking horrified. “What’s all this?”
“My clothes,” I tell her.
Since I’m staying a while, Dallas took me and Ellie shopping the other day. And Rose was right—money’s no object for the man. He practically let Ellie and me go all Pretty Woman in that mall.
“I see that. Why are they in the guest room?” She glances back at Rose and cocks her head. “Help me out here.” She grabs two handfuls of hangers.
Rose winces, pulling me aside. “Why don’t you let us make it look like you’re a couple up here while you head down.”
I point a finger at her. “That woman seems intense, watch her.”
She rolls her eyes. “She runs a children’s bookstore—she’s as harmless as they come.”
I nod, still unsure about all these people. But if Rose trusts them, I suppose I could—for now.
The two of them haul my clothing and a few random articles of mine into Dallas’s bedroom.
I shake my head, huffing out a breath as I smooth my dress once more and turn toward the stairs.
I stop short when I find Dallas standing at the top of the landing. His eyes roam down my figure.
“You look nice.” The words escape with a raspy breath and a hard swallow.
I don’t comment that I could certainly say the same for him. Dark jeans, light blue shirt, that black cowboy hat. And a bowtie with a dark blue emblem. Instead, I stand there and suck in a breath, wishing to God all those people would just go away.
And as hard as I try, I’m having trouble putting Dallas in that category.
Because the last thing I need right now is for him to be watching me with those blue eyes like he’s saying the same damn thing.
You’re going to have to help me if I look like I’m about to cross some line.
I’ve had to replay those words a few times this week—but more as a reminder to myself.
Because he hasn’t so much as hinted at crossing some line. The minute he realizes he’s been staring too long or we’re in the same room alone for longer than your average small talk, he bolts.
Not that I can blame him—the stakes are high.
No room for screw-ups.
Me included.
I get a whiff of his cologne—or whatever this man does to smell so damn good. A mix of cedar and fresh-cut wood, layered with warm spice. “Thanks, some say green’s my color.”
His eyes roam over me again with a subtle nod that tells me he agrees. Either that or he’s undressing me with his eyes.
Something fizzes in my belly. And my hand—by its own accord—presses against his chest as if to physically stop him from breaking down any more of my walls—which I realize aren’t made of steel, but hell, they’re crumbling to the floor like a pile of mulch.
My eyes fall to where my hand lands, expecting him to back away or set it down like a gentleman.
Goddammit. You had one job.
To my surprise, Dallas grips my wrist, holding my hand where I had it, and gives it a gentle tug, pulling me close. Making my pulse spike. Then without another word, he rakes his hand through mine and walks me down the stairs.
His voice is soft against my ear as we hit the bottom step. “Don’t leave my side.”
I turn my chin up. For the first time tonight, the knot in my chest eases. And maybe just for tonight, I can trust that I’m not alone. “That goes for you too.”
Nearly every corner of the lower level is filled with guests. I smile knowingly at several like I’d do with any bar patron I don’t recognize but accidentally lock eyes with.
“Do me a favor and squeeze my hand if I’m supposed to look like I know someone we start talking to.”
He doesn’t respond. Not with words anyway.
He nods at a few people and squeezes my hand as he guides me toward a dark-blond male.
Tall, light-skinned, and handsome. I don’t know my hockey players as well as Rose does, but I know this man is a Thorne.
He smiles back at me with a familiar smirk, glancing at Dallas as if to say he’s got this.
“Silas,” I say with a soft breath, trying to suppress the question on my tongue.
He sets his drink down and I step into his embrace. He’s got a good grip, strong, confident, and a little bit playful. “Great seeing you again. Thanks for coming.”
“Hey, no worries, sis. But listen.” He points a finger. “I want a rematch next week. And this time, I’m bringing my own deck of cards. Can’t trust you city girls.” He winks.
A brunette swats at him like she’s offended. She’s pretty—beautiful in fact, with warm features. She also looks vaguely familiar.
Silas winces, rubbing his arm. “Oh please, you lived in Manhattan for less than a decade.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Always a city girl at heart.” Then she smiles brightly at me. “Hi there! I’m Pepper.” She tugs the arm of another broad-shouldered man, grabbing his attention. “This is my husband, Chase.”
Now him, I know. Captain of the Denver Kings hockey team.
And now I remember why Pepper looks familiar.
It was on national television when Pepper Woods—supposedly Chase Reeves’ fiancée—dumped him in the middle of a big game after going missing for days.
The clip only showed her appearing on the sidelines and handing him back a massive engagement ring. Apparently, they worked things out.
I glance up at Dallas, who’s busy looking over my head at some other guests, which means he’s not so concerned about these two.
Chase stretches out a hand. “Congratulations and thanks for having us. Impressive place you got here.” His brow twitches at Dallas. “Quite a surprise, Thorne. Can’t decide if I should hug you or stage an intervention.”
Another swat from the brunette. “He’s kidding. Marriage is a beautiful thing. ”
Tell that to the fifty percent divorce rate.
“But don’t just take our word for it,” she continues. “Ask my best friend, Charlie. She married Chase’s brother Noah last year. They’re really happy.”
I laugh because somehow the words Noah and happy don’t work for me, but fine, I’ll take her word for it and smile like I could just picture it. “Well, we’re excited—despite all the warnings.” I squeeze Dallas’s side playfully. “Right, babe?”
Dallas sucks in a breath. “Right.” Then he nods at Chase. “If I could get a list of dos and don’ts when you get a chance . . .”
The five of us laugh—less than half of us genuinely—grabbing some attention from a few guests.
At that, we make a few more rounds, but there are no more subtle squeezes, which means most of these people are supposed to be exactly what they are . . . strangers.
Finally, Dallas pulls me aside.
“Did I say something wrong?” I ask immediately.
“You’re a natural,” he assures me, leading me toward the kitchen. “I just need a drink.” He glances back. “And to tell you that Glenda just walked in.”
I pause mid-stride, but know better than to turn back for a good look at her.
Sensing my dilemma, he twists me under the archway, wrapping his arms around me as if we just stopped for a private moment.
He leans down to my ear. His breath is warm, sending shivers everywhere. “She’s the freakishly tall blonde looking this way.”
I smirk like he’s telling me something naughty and, ever so subtly, sweep my eyes over her but don’t let them linger.
Instead, I twist into him, my forearms pressed between us.
It feels so natural, so good, being wrapped up in his arms. And the way he’s looking at me now, like he might feel it too, makes my chest ache.
“I think I need a mental break,” I whisper. “And to check on Ellie.”
“She’s fine. And maybe things are different in the city, but around here, a mental break doesn’t include checking on others.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”
I deadpan him. “Ellie’s not others.” Then I give him a small smile. “But I won’t turn down a drink.”
His chest rises as he takes me in again. As if I’ve changed over the last few minutes. “She’s in the kitchen.” He glances back as if to make sure. “Everyone in there right now is a safe space. Including Noah’s father—Aiden Reeves. He’s the one talking to my dad.”
My eyes stretch. “As in world champion wrestler Aiden Reeves?”
“He’s not easy to get one over on, so Dad told him our plan. You can trust him.”
I nod and follow him into the kitchen, our hands splitting when I head toward Ellie. She’s propped up on the island, picking off the spread Wesley prepared.
Dallas steps over to the self-serve bar, where Connor, Aiden, Wilder, and Noah are talking. I watch as Dallas pours himself an ounce of whiskey and mumbles something to the men. Noah’s eyes trail to the front door as if looking for someone.
“What kind of cheese is this?” Ellie asks. “It’s not yellow.”
“An expensive kind.” Wes plucks it from her and replaces it with cheddar. He hands me something too. Something cold and delicious. “Margarita, if I recall?”
“Thank you. I either need four of these tonight or none—keep my mind in check.”
“Let’s start with one, but eat something too. There’s enough food to feed a small town—”
“Why the hell do I need to give a speech?” Dallas suddenly hisses loud enough for us to hear.
Wes lifts a tray like it’s his cue. “Hey kid, come help me refill some platters.”
He helps Ellie down with his free hand and they step out into the living room.
“They all know why they’re here,” Dallas continues, and I move to stand beside him.
The man Dallas pointed out as Aiden smiles warmly at me, stretching out a hand. “Willow, pleasure to meet you.” He looks about a decade younger than Connor, similar height and a total silver fox. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. And it’s wonderful meeting you too. I’m pretty sure my mother stalked you to be a cover model for one of her books.”
He chuckles. “My daughter-in-law owns a bookstore in Hideaway Springs. Would have been very awkward if I ended up on one of those shelves.”
Dallas shakes his head, leaning down toward me. “Remember when we talked about saying things in your head rather than out loud?”
I nudge him with my hip. “You said this was a safe space.”
Aiden’s eyes flick to Connor. “Thought you said this thing’s a sham?”
Connor grins, gaze shifting between Dallas and me. “Thought it was.”
“Can we focus?” Noah snaps. “First off—” He points between me and Dallas. “Don’t make Charlie and me give you two lessons on affection—”
“Someone’s still gotta explain that one to me,” I mutter.
“Second, you’re giving a speech, Dallas, because they’re all expecting one.”
Aiden sighs. “What my son is trying to say is, just thank them all for coming and tell them when and where it’s happening.”
I blink.
Dallas glances down at me. “Um . . . we haven’t thought about any of that yet.”
Noah checks his watch. “Well, you’ve got thirty minutes to figure it out and let everyone here know.”
Dallas runs a hand down his face. “I need air.”
Aiden, Wilder, and Noah step aside to give him space, but Connor doesn’t.
He stares at his oldest son like he means business.
“If you do get up there, remember who you’re talking to.
This is your town. Your friends. They’ll smell bullshit.
They’ll know you’re not being real. Don’t give them a reason to doubt this. ”